Five Years of Awards or Not
by Palmer4President
Summary: It was Emmy season. A collection of five vignettes in honor of 22 Emmy nominations for 30 Rock. Liz-centric with various other characters. Liz/Pete friendship, Liz/Jenna friendship, Jack/Liz friendship and a touch of romance.


**My muse has decided to return to me for a little bit! In celebration of both that and 30 Rock receiving 22 Emmy nominations, I present this fic. :D**

**Disclaimer: 30 Rock and its universe belong to Tina Fey the Incredible and NBC Universal, not me. **

1.) 2006

It was Emmy season. Liz loved Emmy season. It reminded her why she was doing this, why she was creating and running her own show starting from the ground up. Sure it has not been easy yet, but it was satisfying to see her work going straight to the screen, and she couldn't help but dream that some day, she'd be on that Emmy stage accepting an award for her writers.

Sunday night was usually leftover night for Liz ("leftovers" meaning whatever extra takeout food she had accumulated over the week), but with tonight being a special occasion, she decided to order a fresh pizza instead of eating the two slices she had in her freezer left from Thursday. As she happily munched on her slice of meat lover's pizza, the presenters of the award for Outstanding Writing for a Variety, Music, or Comedy Program were announced, and Liz suddenly wished that she had invited someone over to watch it with her. How was she supposed to watch this whole show and not talk to someone? She picked up her phone and called her second speed dial number (number one was Jenna, and she was sure that Jenna wouldn't understand why this was important).

"Hello?"

"Pete, do you ever think we'll be there?" Liz asked without introduction.

"Liz? Be where? What are you talking about?"

"At the Emmy's, getting that award," she told him. After a pause, she continued. "Are you not watching the Emmy's?"

"I was, but then Kyle got a hold of the remote. So we're watching Spongebob now," he said with fake enthusiasm. "But he goes to bed at nine, so I was going to turn it back on then."

"You've really got to stop being afraid of your kids," Liz commented as she watched someone from _The Daily Show_ accept the award. "Ugh, every year, _The Daily Show_ wins. Seriously, what is up with that?"

"Come on, you've got to admit they're really good," Pete said. Liz mumbled her agreement, and silence overtook them. "Relax, Liz. We just started _TGS_. Wait until we've got a season under our belts before you start freaking out about winning awards."

"Ugh, I know. Sorry. It just feels like we're always going to be that weird comedy show that people watch when there's no new _Daily Show_ on."

"_TGS_ will take off and everything will be fine," Pete said with more confidence than he felt. The other day, he'd walked in on the writers taking bets on how long it would be before Donaghy cancelled them.

"Yeah, no thanks to that jag Jack Donaghy," Liz grumbled. "I still can't believe he changed the name of the show without telling me! That guy's a jerk."

"Don't give up on him yet," Pete said. "Sure, he changed the name without telling us and technically fired me, but he did get us Tracy, and our ratings have really gone up since Tracy arrived. Donaghy knows what he's doing."

"Yeah, I guess," Liz conceded reluctantly. She still wasn't convinced. "Well, thanks for talking me down, Hornberger. I owe you."

"You got me my job back. Consider us even."

"Fair enough. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye Liz." Liz hung up the phone and turned back to the TV. Pete was right. They had only just started _TGS_. They had time to get to the Emmys.

2.) 2007

It was Emmy season. Liz hated Emmy season. All of those shows who had just finished their first seasons being all "Look at me, I'm nominated for an Emmy" made her want to punch someone in the face. So _TGS's _first season wasn't quite _Heroes_. _Heroes_ could suck it.

"I mean, really, so what if we tested best among the morbidly obese and _Heroes_ won in the 18-49 age group? _TGS_ has value too." Liz complained to Jenna, who had invited herself over to Liz's apartment to watch the Emmys. Liz liked to pretend it had been to spend an evening with a friend. Really, though, she was pretty sure it was just because Jenna was trying to get the cute doorman's number.

"The Academy has had a thing against me ever since I played that recovering bulimic on _ER_," a slightly intoxicated Jenna informed Liz. "I should have won an Emmy for that guest role, and they didn't even recognize my incredible performance with a nomination. Just because most bulimics don't get up from their hospital beds and sing doesn't mean that some can't," Jenna finished defiantly, taking another sip from her wine.

"Yeah, but my point is that there's some weird expectation out there that shows be like _Heroes_ and get nominated for Best Drama Series after their first season, which is completely ridiculous. So people look at completely normal shows that are getting off to slightly slower starts and say, 'Gee, what's wrong with that show? It's not winning awards like _Heroes_.' These awards are the worst."

"You tell 'em, sister!" Jenna slurred enthusiastically, booing as Jaime Pressly won for Best Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series. Liz looked over at her company, suddenly wishing that she had better company to watch the Emmys with. Sadly, however, Jenna was the only person Liz could think of to invite over. Pete was with his family, and she hadn't spoken to Jack all summer. Inviting Jack over would be weird anyway, and definitely not something that he'd want to do. He was probably _at_ the Emmys, for crying out loud. So she was left with Jenna.

Liz watched as the next award (she hesitated to call it "her award," but that was how she thought of it) for writing in a variety show was announced. This year, _Late Night with Conan O'Brian_ beat out _The Daily Show_, ending its four-year streak.

'Well,' Liz thought, 'If someone had to beat _The Daily Show_, Conan's show would be my second choice.'

3.) 2008

It was Emmy season. Liz was not a fan of Emmy season. Sure, things had looked up for _TGS_ over the last year, but you could hardly expect a show like hers to be an award-winner, even after two seasons. These awards were just designed to make people who ran mildly successful TV shows feel like crap.

"Lemon, this is not some personal vendetta against you," Jack informed her over the phone. "This is a way for the television industry to award its top performers, as any industry should. It's not meant to try and push you down. It's meant to inspire you to try and reach their level."

"Spoken like a true capitalist, Jack," Liz remarked dryly as she munched on another cheese curl. "But why do they have to make such a big deal about it? Why can't they just be like, 'Here, you won this award. Good job. Keep working.'"

"For someone who works in the television industry itself, you're quite slow on the uptake, aren't you?" Jack asked. Liz pouted (not that Jack could see it, though she was pretty sure he knew she was making a face at him), but before she could answer, Jack continued. "It's all about the ratings. The Emmys are a huge draw for a network, so it naturally makes sense that a network would want to capitalize on it as much as possible. Make it as big of a spectacle as possible in order to get the maximum amount of viewers."

"Still, it's annoying," Liz grumbled as they prepared to announce the award for writing in a variety, music, or comedy program. "Ooh, shut up, here's my award," Liz told him (she had given up on repressing the "my award" this year).

Jack gave a short, mocking laugh. "_Your award?_ Lemon, you do realize that you haven't actually won that award, don't you?"

"Duh, Jack, I'm not living in an alternate reality or something," an annoyed Liz said as she watched Stephen Colbert accept the award. "It's just that that's the one I would win if I ever did win an award for the show. Which isn't likely. But still. It's a goal."

"I think you could win that award one day," Jack told her, the rare encouragement making Liz pause for a second.

"Wait, really?"

"Of course. I am confident that my mentoring skills have brought you up to the level where you can win awards, even something as seemingly-unattainable as an Emmy."

"Well, thanks Jack. I think," Liz said, not entirely sure whether his statement was really a tribute to what he thought of her or whether it was simply his own self-confidence. Just as Jack was about to reply, a beep on her phone interrupted him. "Oh, hold on. I've got another call." She checked her phone to see the name _Tracy Jordan_ looking back at her. "Aw, shoots, it's Tracy. Listen, Jack, I better take this."

"Of course," Jack quickly agreed. Diffusing Tracy's messes was the one thing Jack didn't miss from his old (and hopefully future) job. "Good luck, and until next time."

"Yeah, thanks. And that better be soon because we need you back in New York," Liz informed him.

"Trust me, Lemon, I'm working as hard as I can to get fired," Jack said, a sentence that could only be reassuring under the current circumstances.

"Good. Bye Jack." Liz sighed and hung up on Jack as they handed out the award for writing in a drama series. Maybe Jack was right that she could someday win an Emmy. For today, though, she'd just have to keep working and work with whatever problem Tracy surely had in store for her.

4.) 2009

It was Emmy season. Liz never thought that Emmy season could be so stressful. Through some twisted joke from on high, she and the _TGS_ writing staff had been nominated for Outstanding Writing for a Variety, Music, or Comedy Program. Yep, her award. She hadn't actually believed Jack when he called her to congratulate her. (It was the middle of the summer, and she had lost track of the days. She got a call from Jack one day just as she was sitting down to breakfast.

"Lemon, congratulations!" Jack told her earnestly. That was odd; how did Jack know that she'd reached her goal of being off of Sabor de Soledad for two months?

"On what?" she asked, airing on the side of caution.

"Are you honestly not watching the Emmy nominations? They're announcing them right now. You and the writers have been nominated for 'your award,' as you put it." Liz remained silent for a moment.

"Ha ha, very funny Jack," she finally settled on. "You got me on that one. Wow, I forgot that they were even announcing those today. Who really got nominated?"

"I'm serious Liz. Get online and check if you don't believe me.")

Now, here she was, sitting in the Kodak Theater next to Jack with the rest of the writers around her. Tracy, Jenna, and Pete were even here too; Pete said that he wanted an excuse to get away from his family for a couple days, Jenna was here to flirt with the real stars, and Tracy was convinced that the Black Crusaders were after him again and that Hollywood was the last place they'd look for him. Regardless, Liz was happy to have them all here. Kenneth had even promised them all that he'd be watching all night, and that he would cheer loud enough to wake his neighbors when he saw them (something that Kenneth apparently considered scandalous, so she guessed it meant a lot).

"Are people watching TV really going to see me?" Liz asked Jack nervously.

"Well, if you win, you'll have to actually go up on that stage," Jack told her. "Even if you don't win, it's highly likely that they'll show you when they announce your nomination."

"Aw nerds, why do people have to see me?" Liz muttered, tapping her foot nervously. Jack placed a hand on her knee, calming her jittery leg. She looked over to see him giving her an uncharacteristically comforting look.

"Relax, Liz," he said evenly. "You look great, and no one but your parents and Kenneth will even think twice about it." Liz huffed and looked away.

"Great, so you're saying no one even cares about my award."

"Do you want me to be honest?" Jack asked. Liz gave him a withering look that was clearly an emphatic "No." Out of either a random act of kindness on Jack's part or an act of God, he remained silent.

After what seemed like an eternity, they got to the writing awards. Liz and the rest of the _TGS_ staff sat on the edge of their seats. They ran through the list of nominees, and Liz gave the camera her best forced smile when they showed her.

"And the Emmy goes to…" Liz held her breath, as she was sure everyone near her was doing (even Jack, though he'd probably never admit it). "…_The Colbert Report_!" They started listing off the names of all of the writers, but Liz didn't see or hear any of it. All she saw was her section look down dejectedly. Twofer, who had been sitting up straight in order to get up, slumped back down in his seat. Frank took off his hat that said "Award Winning" and looked sadly at it before tentatively placing it back on his head. Even Jenna looked over at them with true sympathy on her face. Liz felt Jack's hand on her knee again, this time to comfort her instead of calm her down. She looked over at him.

"You deserved to win it, Lemon," he said honestly, giving her knee a reassuring pat. Somehow, though it didn't completely erase how upset she was, it made things just a little bit better. Liz managed a shadow of a smile.

"Thanks, Jack."

5.) 2010

It was Emmy season. Liz couldn't believe it was Emmy season again. Had it really been a full year since she was here? Since she got her hopes up, only to be disappointed by not winning? She still couldn't believe that they lost to _The Colbert Report._ Really? _The Colbert Report_? They were just another show that wanted to be as good as _The Daily Show_, but wasn't. She hadn't watched Colbert all year in protest.

This year, Liz actually watched the nominations herself, so she wasn't caught by surprise when Jack congratulated her. She also let Jenna take her out shopping for her outfit this year. (Still a mistake, by the way. Jenna's idea of "reasonable" was $800 for a dress by some designer that Jenna had assured her was a big deal, she had never heard of. Not that she had really ever heard of any designers, but still, she was not paying $800 for a dress she'd wear once)

As she sat in her seat next to Jack, much the same as last year, she grumbled about needing to be there.

"I mean, really, it's not like we're gonna win," she complained to Jack. "Can't we just leave? I saw a really good looking Chinese place on our way over here, and I'd be much happier there than here stuffed in this stupid dress and heels."

"Lemon, I am not allowing you to skip out on the Emmys to go eat Chinese food," Jack informed her with his usual controlled patience he reserved for her. "And that is not a stupid dress. You look fantastic. You know, if you made the effort more often-"

"Nope, can it, Donaghy," she interrupted.

"I was complimenting you. I thought you wanted me to say, and I quote, 'nicer things' to you more often."

"That wasn't sounding like a compliment."

"Well, maybe if you had let me finish-"

"We're done with this topic, Jack. I'm taking off my heels." Jack opened his mouth like he was going to rebut this, but he thought better of it and closed his mouth. He shook his head slightly as she bent down and eased the strappy sandals off of her feet.

"I hope you're planning on putting those back on before they announce your award," Jack commented dryly.

"Do I have to?" Liz almost whined. Jack raised an eyebrow at her.

"Please, do it for me."

Liz let out an annoyed sigh. "Ugh, fine," she huffed. "But only because you want me to." After a pause, Liz turned to Jack curiously. "Wait, do you… like these shoes? As in…" She paused, hoping Jack would fill in the blanks. When Jack continued to look at her expectantly, she huffed. "Are you really going to make me say it out loud?" When the answer from Jack was clearly "yes," Liz continued. "Fine, do you like… seeing these shoes… on me?" She finished, flinching as she said it. Jack laughed at her hesitancy.

"Was that really so hard to say?" he asked as if he was talking to a young child. "Yes, Lemon, I do like seeing those shoes on you. Congratulations, you have successfully determined that I'm a heterosexual man and would therefore find those shoes attractive on a woman. Mostly, however, I'd rather not see you accept an award barefoot." Liz rolled her eyes as the host started his monologue.

An hour later, Liz grudgingly put her shoes back on as they got to the writing awards. She was pretty sure that she was bent down behind the row in front of her as the camera panned over her section, though, so that was a plus.

"And the Emmy goes to... _TGS with Tracy Jordan_!" The writers' faces transformed from looking anxious to shocked to excited in a span of about five seconds. They all jumped up excitedly as the crowd applauded. Liz hardly registered what was happening as the writers pulled her out of her seat and she followed them on stage.

"Wow, this is such an honor," she said as she got up to the mic and accepted the statue. "This feels like I'm in a dream or something, but I'm usually up here in my underwear in those." The crowd laughed, giving Liz just enough confidence to rush through the rest of speech. "Thanks to our wonderful producer, Pete; our stars, Tracy, Jenna, and Josh; our crew, you're really the best; and everyone who made late-night food runs for us. Kenneth, I guess that was mostly you, so thanks. Thanks to everyone's families and friends who put up with us. And finally, thanks to Jack Donaghy. I'm not sure how we convinced you to allow our silly little show to keep going for five years, but I'm glad you fell for it. Thank you everyone." They were all rushed back to the press room, through which they moved fairly quickly (it turned out people didn't actually want to talk to a bunch of writers. After looking at her group, Liz could almost see why). Soon, Liz was taking her seat back next to Jack, who was grinning proudly as she approached with the gold statue.

"You won your award, Lemon," he stated after she had been congratulated by Pete and Jenna (who was overjoyed by Liz's mention of her. She was telling anyone who would listen about how the mention was going to help her Oscar chances).

"I know!" Liz exclaimed. "Weird, right?" She held the statue out at arm's length to admire it. "It looks good." Jack smiled.

"It sure does," he agreed. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'm really proud of you," he whispered so only she could hear. Liz blushed. She still wasn't entirely comfortable with Jack's love of public displays of affection. Luckily for her, most of the rest of her section was still admiring their own statues.

"That's only cuz you think you're gonna get some action tonight if you say that," Liz whispered back.

"Would I be wrong in thinking that?"

"Well, no, but it makes me think you don't mean it," Liz stated uncomfortably.

"Liz, I mean everything I say," Jack told her. "You should know that by now. I _am_ really proud of you. And your writers, for once, but mostly you."

"Thanks, Jack," Liz said, smiling at him. She bent down and took off her heels again. As she did so, she could practically see Jack rolling his eyes behind her back. She sat back up in her seat and poked Jack in retaliation for the eye rolling. And, despite her reflexive action to turn away, Liz didn't object when Jack put his arm around the back of her chair and placed a quick kiss on her lips. Maybe she could get used to this whole Emmy-thing.


End file.
